


The compass couldn't tell time right, but at least it brought them together.

by fanboysstillexist



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, M/M, i mean obviously angst a character dies, saloonatics, sorta hopeful ending though? i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:36:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21600874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanboysstillexist/pseuds/fanboysstillexist
Summary: Thompson moves back to America after Edward dies, and finds Eduardo mourning Juan's death.
Relationships: Eduardo/Jon (Eddsworld), Edward Gold/Sheriff Thompson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	The compass couldn't tell time right, but at least it brought them together.

He’d expected it to look the same, or roughly, as he had left it.

Yet as he entered the town, the one where he grew up and spent most of his adult years and loved with all his heart, he realized that he should have followed the train conductor’s warnings. 

The place stunk.

Not smelled bad stunk; that wouldn’t have been a change; but depressing stunk. Everything in the town, the shops, the bars, the homes. It all looked… dead.

It was a ghost town. All traces of life were stuck in place, people having likely fled due to the influx of criminals that would’ve occurred after Thompson left. 

He walked into his old favorite bar. The bar was named ‘A good place to start’, which Thompson had always found ironic, but especially now, when his world felt like it was caving in on itself. When it was ending.

Deciding he might as well try, he looked over the counter to see if there was any leftover alcohol. None. Which makes sense honestly, that was usually the first thing stolen, but Thompson just wishes something was there to ease his mind. Make him forget for a little while now, at whatever steep cost he’d have to pay later. 

Thompson slumped into his old bar stool, and held his head in his hands. He didn’t feel like spiraling into another pity party, yet he also didn’t want to move. 

But if he didn’t go anywhere, if he didn’t at least try to distract himself, then what was the point of moving back to America in the first place?

He forced himself out of the chair, and walked out. Wandering aimlessly, he waiting for something to pounce on him from the shadows, but nothing came.

Even the criminals had abandoned this place. 

After some time, he heard soft weeping. A deep voice, one that rang a distant bell that resided on the outskirts of his memory. 

Thompson was, by far, no stranger to crying. So he knew that, if he were crying in a place where he thought he was alone, he wouldn’t exactly want someone intruding. 

So, he tried to walk away, but instead tripped over his own feet and landed on the ground with a thud. Dust from the ground flew into his lungs, and he loudly coughed it out. 

The man he’d heard before was looking straight at him now, eyes wide with surprise and recognition. 

The man he saw was the bandit, Eduardo, if he remembered correctly, who had kidnapped the Prince many years ago. He was wearing a rumpled and dirty green shirt, with hideous, shadowed bags under his eyes. Not that Thompson had any ground to stand on in that department. Both men looked altogether disheveled. 

Eduardo shot up, looking ready to sprint away, but then he just stood there. Staring. 

“What?” Eduardo said, “Aren’t you gonna kill me to?”

Thompson stood up, raising his hands in front of him.

“Hey, I’m no killer.”

“But your friends are.” Eduardo shot back, eyes, already sunken in and red, welling up with tears, “All you cops are. Freaks.”

“Hey! That’s not-”

“If you’re not gonna kill me, at least leave me alone.” Eduardo sunk back down onto the earth, back slumped and head in his hands. 

Thompson walks over to Eduardo.

“Why are ya-”

“The fuck did I say before? Leave.” Eduardo growled, hands pulling on his hair.

“Fine.” Thompson walked away.

He walked until he found an abandoned hotel, not want to go back to his old house and see what the new people had done there. Prying open the doors, he figured the owners wouldn’t mind if he borrowed one of the rooms for a night or two. He takes the first one on the ground floor.

He gingerly takes a compass out of his pocket and places it onto the night stand next to him.

As he climbs into bed and curls the covers around him, pictures of Edward start to rattle around in his brain. 

This is always when things go downhill. Though, with the subtraction of alcohol, it might end with less of a headache and with no embarrassing stories you overhear from other people at work the day after. 

Edward was beautiful, and brilliant, and bold. He would take him up onto the balcony and they would snuggle under a big, soft blanket, looking up at the stars. One night when they did this, Thompson said something that’d been on his mind for some time. 

“Hey, Ed?”

“Yes, Thom?” Edward snuggled closer, and a slight chill went down Thompson’s back. 

“There…there are more stars ‘n your eyes than the whole sky.” Thompson fidgeted with the blanket, studying his own hands. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Edward’s face, bathed in moonlight and dusted with dazzling pink. His own cheeks got warmer. 

Edward raised his hand over his mouth, eyes betraying his smile. 

“Thompson…” The star-y eyed man giggled, “I hope you know that’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me before.” He slowly wraps his arms around Thompson, petting his hair softly and cooing other praises into his ear.

Thompson flushed at the flattery, breath wavering. He allowed a small smile, hugging tightly. 

That was the night Thompson was sure he was never going to leave Edward for America, that he would stay with him until the end.

And in that way, he wasn’t lying. He did stay with him until the end. 

Edward and Thompson shared many tender moments, and had built a very unique relationship indeed. But it seemed it wasn’t enough, not for Edward.

He was erratic when they outlawed the original cola. He would sob into Thompson’s arms after waking up from a vivid nightmare, wondering how he would ever feel happy again. Thompson would pretend not to feel a little hurt at the implication that he wasn’t enough, but would swallow it down, not wanting to inadvertently hurt his partner’s feelings. Though that just led to more statements like that, so it probably would’ve been worth the trouble to just say something. 

He would keep Thompson up at night, just talking, saying he was unable to sleep yet exhausted. His superiors had tried to team Thompson up with someone else because of how badly Edward was suddenly doing on all his cases. Thompson refused. 

After weeks of being constantly tired, cold and hungry, the symptoms seemed to stop, suddenly. He was doing better again, oddly enough. 

“Thank God he didn’t go to therapy, like his superiors told him to,” Thompson overheard someone say, “it was probably just a rough patch.”

And it seemed like it was. Everything was better, suddenly. He was getting picked for the best cases, and his superiors were giving him small bonuses again. Sure, it was odd Edward would go to take smoke breaks alone every hour or so, but hey, that’s being a detective for you. It’s a stressful job. 

But soon he would wake up in the middle of the night again, getting chills and tremors even though he was always used to the cold before. Bags would appear under his eyes from waking up so often. 

Thompson begged him to go to a doctor, but Edward denied every time, until Thompson just quietly hoped from a distance.

“Why would I go to a doctor? So they can lock me up and prevent me from doing my job? Preposterous, Thomie. This city; all of England; needs me.” 

“If you say so…”

He didn’t know what to do. Edward was eventually taking so many short breaks he got suspended. Then fired. They of course still needed to pay rent and afford food so Thompson decided to keep working, which left Edward alone for long stretches of the day, and…

Thompson curled into fetal position, feeling a fatigue so strong he could hardly breathe without each one feeling like a sit up. He didn’t even have any tears left to cry. 

He didn’t want to relive the next parts, the ones that made him feel unfit to call himself human. 

Eventually, he fell asleep, staring blankly ahead.

~

Thompson didn’t take much back to America with him. The clothes on his back and enough food and money to help him survive the sea ride were the only things he originally planned on taking. 

Then, as he was trudging out the door, something caught his eye. 

A compass. 

Technically worth nothing, Thompson found it in a pile of mud. But it looked pretty to him, even from a distance, and when he picked it up, he saw intricate gold designs on it. He took it home to clean it. It was broken, however, but Thompson figured he could always get it fixed. 

When Edward found the thing drying on the dinner table, he asked Thompson what it was.

“It’s a compass.” Thompson said, smirking.

“Well, yes, I can see that. What is it doing here?” Edward asked, amused and intrigued. 

“I…I dunno. I found it ‘n I thought it looked nice. So I went and cleaned it up all spiffy for ya.” Thompson picked it up and held it out, “Here ya go.” 

Edward light up, and carefully held it, examining it in the light. 

“Thank you! This is lovely.” He kissed Thompson on the cheek, effectively burning the man’s face off. “I think it’s really symbolical how you found this in the mud but still saw enough beauty behind the hard exterior to clean it.”

“Right…the symbolism.” Thompson had never really been a symbolism ‘guy’. In his mind, if you had something to say, just say it. Don’t make everyone else feel stupid for not understanding how some vague dream or color-coded outfit tie into some bigger, overarching story line. 

“I think it fits you nicely!” Edward beamed, proud of himself.

“You think a dirty, broken compass ‘fits me’?” Thompson raised one eyebrow, leaning on the table with his elbow.

“Oh no! No no no no no.” Edward smiled nervously, waving his hands in front of him, “I simply meant that you finding the beauty in something others would consider trash is…well, quite sweet.”

“…Have others called ya trash before? ‘Cause I’ll beat ‘em for ya, if ya want.” 

Edward chuckled a little before he realized Thompson was dead serious.

“No no, it isn’t that, I just think it’s like your old town.” When Edward said that, Thompson felt a little nostalgic for his old life. Not that he’d trade Edward for anything, of course; he just liked the familiarity of the thought. “Your town seemed rotten with crime at first glance, but you stayed and helped it; why? Because you saw it’s good, and it’s beauty, and the potential it had with a little cleaning up!”

Thompson titled his head and squinted at the floor.

“I…think I understand?” 

“I’m glad I could help!” Edward smiled, and Thompson couldn’t help but reflect it. “I really do think it’s sweet, you know. It proves you notice the little things, and-”

“Alright, alright,” Thompson interrupted, blush furious at the praise, “that’s enough. Thanks, though. Sweet of ya ta interpret it that way.”

“You’re quite welcome!” He kissed him on the cheek again, and Thompson let himself smile dumbly, his eye fluttering shut. “But I think it could also mean you see…”

Thompson had stopped listening at that point, but watching Edward ramble on about things he didn’t know or care about…well, he enjoyed how happy it made him. 

Thompson figured he couldn’t leave the compass there to get taken and thrown away by the bank, he wouldn’t bare it. Even though his entire reasoning in leaving was so he could get away from everything that reminded him of his late…friend, he knew he wouldn’t feel right leaving this behind. So he put it in his pocket and left with it. 

Now it was on the nightstand. Or at least, it should’ve been.

When Thompson opened his eye and saw it missing, the nothing feeling was replaced by panic. 

Flinging the covers off him, he went to check under the bed, but before he could, he saw a flash of color out the window. It was dark green, with a small glint of gold. 

He flew through the doors and ran outside. 

“HEY!” He shouts at the moving figure, better recognizable now. It looks an awful lot like the crying man from before; Eduardo. Thompson sprints with all his might, a swirling inferno of energy replacing the usual dull spark. 

He doges houses and runs after Eduardo, further in the desert. Colors blur together, and soon Thompson has Eduardo pinned down, pressing his wide-eyed face into the dust. He pries the compass out of his hands. 

“Now.” Thompson’s voice was a quiet, tired growl. A warning through gritted teeth. “Why did you try and steal my compass?”

“I…” Eduardo shrinks into himself, eyes closing slowly now. He sighs. “I just wanted to finally leave.” 

Thompson blinks and shakes his head.

“Sure, bandit.” Eduardo tightens his lips. He hasn’t been called that in awhile. Or he just doesn’t like that word. “I’m gonna-” He instinctively reaches for where he usually puts his handcuffs. Of course, he turned them in when he quit. Old habits die hard.

“What are ya gonna do now?” Eduardo asks, “There’s no one else here to help you, and I could get out of this any time.”

“Then why haven’t ya?” Thompson asks, calling his bluff, and Eduardo simply frowns. “I knew it. Now why did ya steal my only…why did ya steal my compass?”

“That’s none of your business.” Eduardo snapped, eyes squeezing shut, “Now let me go.”

“How should I know ya won’t just try n’ kill me? Or something worse?” Thompson asked, tightening his grip. Eduardo grimaced. “Ya said somethin’ about finally bein’ able to leave. If there’s no one else here, why not do that a while ago? Who was stopping ya?” Thompson’s rage had turned to curiosity. Mixed with rage.

Eduardo tried to swallow, making his hair fall in front of his face to mask the expression. A few seconds pass, and Thompson considers asking again, because he wasn’t going to let this go, until he hears quiet sobs from the man. Thompson softens.

“I…” Thompson was never really good at comforting people. That was Edward’s job, mostly. If they were on a case with a grieving widow, Edward was the one to hold them. He would always know just what to say, even when he himself was at his worst. Remembering Edward’s worst moments puts tears into Thompson’s eye.

One time, just two hours after Edward got suspended for a week, Thompson was yelling at him for being so inconsiderate.

“I don’t even know how ya did this!” Thompson had thrown his arms into the air

“I-I don’t either! My job performance is fine-”

“It’s because ya keep taking breaks every 5 seconds! And ya never tell no one what you’re doing! It makes me wonder if ya ever even stopped using-”

“Shut-shut UP!” Edward shouted, then placed a hand over his mouth. Thompson instinctively took a step back. “I’m…I’m sorry, Thompson. Terribly sorry.”

“It’s…” Thompson rarely heard Edward raise his voice. But when he told him to shut up, there was legitimate fear in his voice. Edward clutched his arms, looking at the ground. He shivered. “fine. It happens sometimes.” 

“I’m terribly sorry.” Edward said, almost as if he was apologizing for something else, and walked quickly away. 

The look of regret in Edward’s eyes…Thompson knew he didn’t want to do what he was doing. But it was almost as if he had to. He wanted to stop, but didn’t know how.

Teardrops fell onto Eduardo’s neck. 

“Wha…” Eduardo said, “Are you…can you get off of me?”

“Sure.” Thompson sat next to Eduardo has he sat up. A short silence proceeded, a heavy and curious one.

“What am I doing?” Asked Eduardo, sighing to himself as he fumbles with his necklace. 

“I don’t know.” Thompson wiped the tears from his eye. There was an awkward tension in the air, and they both just wanted to fill it. So, he said the first thing that came to his mind. “I just miss him so much. Edward, I mean.” He blushed slightly.

“Were you two…?” Eduardo cocked his head, eyebrows creased.

Thompson licked his lips. He looked the man over again, and saw that he didn’t have any weapons on him. Of course, he might be able to throw a few punches, but Thompson didn’t find himself caring too much about that. He figured if he had nothing left he cared to lose, why not risk all that remained?

“I loved him.” Thompson kept his eye open when he said this, wanting to see Eduardo’s reaction. He nor Edward had told a soul about their relationship, but he didn’t care all that much about his reputation now, and Edward didn’t exactly have a spotless one anymore. Also, Thompson doubted there was a thing Eduardo could say to hurt him that he hadn’t heard before; offhand in the streets, at church, in crude jokes. Eduardo could never hurt Thompson in a way that mattered, no one could anymore. In Thompson’s mind, that is.

Wide, deep brown eyes freeze and stare into Thompson’s icy blue one. After no signs of joking, Eduardo’s jaw goes slack. 

“I get it.” Eduardo said, “I just…didn’t know there was another out there, I-I…” Long buried and hated tears soak his eyelashes, “I thought I was alone. For so long.”

“I know. ‘M sorry.” Thompson taps his fingers on the ground, not knowing if he should move to hug him, not knowing what to say. Not knowing what to think.

“Years.” 

Thompson just waits, heart bleeding with familiarity.

“Juan died. A…I loved him.” Eduardo lets out a quick and harsh laugh, “Fuck, I still love him. I miss him so damn much.” He clenches his fists. His entire body is shaking. “I wish I had never called him any names, I wish I hadn’t waited so long to tell him, I wish he hadn’t been…” He buries his face into his hands.

“’M so sorry.” Thompson slowly wraps his arms around Eduardo, which the latter gladly accepts. They stay like that for awhile.

“And I feel like if I leave here…it’d be like abandoning him. I can’t do that, not again.” Thompson could tell it was like flood gates had been opened. The dam he had built to keep his emotions at bay were broken, and nothing would stand in the way of it’s cleansing destruction. “His smile, his clothes, his oh-so-angelic voice…what would I be if I forgot them? Who am I right now, without them?”

Thompson shut his eye tight, realizing that these were questions he had been avoiding answering himself. He felt hollow without Edward, and condolences from well meaning co-workers didn’t help fill that void at all. If he wasn’t already spending all his money on rent, he would’ve spiraled into alcoholism. He was determined to try and take a small part of the burden off this man’s back. No one deserved to feel like they had to cry alone. 

People didn’t understand why Thompson cared so much when Edward died.

People obviously expected grief; but they also expected him back at work by Tuesday. They were just friends, after all. Who mourns for years over their friend? 

Thompson could feel his heart being ripped out when he got pulled to the side one day at his lunch hour. 

“It’s Edward.” His Captain had said. The waters in Thompson stilled. 

“What is it?”

“We found him in an alley, a few miles north of here. I’m so sorry.” 

Thompson simply sat down, for a pressure as heavy as the world had just been set on his shoulders. The tears didn’t come until much later. 

Plaid in all black, he demanded time for mourning. In English etiquette, a widow was to mourn for her late husband for two years. But Thompson was no woman, and Edward and he never married. 

In English etiquette, he was to feel sad, but not too sad. That wasn’t normal. 

He was offered a week, but instead quit the job entirely. 

He lived off his savings, unable to get out of bed some days, clutching the pillow Edward used to sleep on, pretending it still smelled like him, even months after. 

No one deserved to cry alone.

Yet both of them had, too many times. 

For Eduardo had the same weight on his shoulders. But both of them together, finally with someone who understood them, after being dead alone for too long…

It was nice. 

And no one cried alone that night.

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to post this here; don't worry I wrote it lol. This fic is also on tumblr and wattpad.
> 
> Sorry if this isn't very good, this is the first thing I've ever posted on ao3 and I'm not all that familiar with the website yet.


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